EVMen
by Sulphuric Wolf
Summary: Pokemon meets X-men. What would happen if the genes of Eeveelutions were combined with humans? How would the creatures survive and lead normal lives, while dodging all those out to get them? Various relationships will be included.
1. Children of Science

WARNING: This fic contains swearing, violence and gore, and homosexual relationships. If you have a problem with this, don't read it.

I should be working on _The Fire Within_, but I had a writer's block with that one, so meh. Here's a new story. Let's see how many chapters I churn out before I give up. :D

-

"It seems then, the Eeveelution is opposite to man. While man changes the environment to suit himself, the Eeveelution changes to suit the environment. A combination of these two creatures would be dangerous indeed."

- Fredrik Marsh, author of _Eevee: The Perfect Pet, or an exploit of nature?_

---

_Rockwell High school, Lorto._

"I'm not going to ask you again, Farren. Answer the question."

Her eyes were the hue and intensity of stone. Under her pale skin, muscles tensed. A slight twitch in her jaw alerted Cam to the fact that she was annoyed beyond return. But she returned the young woman's gaze with a stoic grey gaze.

Cam knew Farren well. She knew that her favourite movie was _Underworld, _she hated water, she was allergic to pineapple and she had a freckle on her jawbone, right next to her left ear.

She also knew that Farren had a deep, embarrassing secret that she didn't like to talk about, one that made her more dangerous than any person sitting in the room on that fateful day.

But what she thought she knew about her friend, that she was completely harmless. Farren would never hurt anyone; it just wasn't in her.

But she was to be mistaken.

To her credit, Cam knew that Farren hated music. She hated being put on the spot by the teacher, Ms. West, who seemed to be fond of picking on the girl. It was no secret that the aforementioned teacher knew of the girl's origins, and was deeply disgusted that she had to teach the teenager.

Ms. West sighed, not breaking Farren's gaze. "Do you want me to get Mr. Cunningham in here? Answer it, or you'll be spending the Friday afternoon in detention."

This time, Farren's lip curled up, and she made no attempt to hide her hostility. Her shoulders tensed, and her eyes betrayed a feral desire. "I hate how teachers always expect us to want to go home at the end of the day," She spat, curling her hands into fists. "If you knew what I had to go home to…"

"I'm not going to ask you again, Farren." interrupted Ms. West, brown eyes wide with accusation. "Answer the question, or there will be consequences."

Cam was sick of this. It happened every lesson. _Is she trying to push Farren to her limits, just for the fun of it? How sick._

"I said," snarled Farren, "No."

And with that, there was a sharp _zzing_, and blades emerged from all over her body. Long, silver and cured like a Middle-Eastern sword, they glistened under the harsh glow of the fluorescents, reflecting the terrified faces of her peers. Farren glared harder than ever at the teacher, who seemed to affair to do anything but stare at her tormented student with eyes brimming with fear. The girl tipped her head forwards to show of the long, curved blades poking between her ebony hair and edging her spine, shoulders and ribs.

Cam was not afraid. She had seen Farren's blades before, when she had unsheathed them as a dare. But she was afraid for her friend. Looking at her arm, she saw that blood was pouring freely from the hand she had pressed to Farren's in support, having been sliced by her wrist blade. It didn't hurt, but she knew it was enough to have Farren locked away, or worse, killed.

Unlike Cam, Farren was as afraid as any other person in the room. She panted through open jaws, her braces moist. Tears tracked down her face, and her eyes had lost their steely anger and just became afraid. Cam pitied her.

"It's ok, Far." Slowly, she reached over with her uninjured hand and carefully patted her friend's arm between the scalpel-sharp knifes that covered her arms. Underneath the huge blades that covered her body, Farren's skin was as soft as any other humans. The girl stiffened at first, but then turned to look at her friend with grateful eyes.

"I'm s-sorry… i-if I hurt you," she sniffed.

Then, with one last accusing look at the teacher, she pulled her blades from the table where they had been impaled, got to her feet, and stormed out of the classroom, retracting her weapons with a _shlik_.

---

_Ecruteak High, Johto._

Darcie watched Naomi at her locker, unaware of students buffeting her from both sides. The girl's blonde hair was as bright as any star against the dull stone wall, and even from this distance, Darcie could see her brilliant green eyes glittering like emeralds. It was all Darcie could do to stop the lighter tips of her dark hair glowing in admiration.

A cold hand gripped her arm. Darcie spun to see her sister, Ellen, staring at her with her all-knowing indigo orbs. Her mouth was slightly ajar, and her breathing was slow and soft. Darcie closed her own eyes, realising that Ellen was trying to show her something.

She saw the small body crunched into the lockers by a snorting grey face, green eyes filled with fear. She could hear her howls of pain, ribs shattering, and smell a disgusting odour as intestines saw the light of day.

Darcie ripped her eyes open to see Naomi organising her books, unaware of the low thumping that was coming from the other side of the fence. Panic gripped her, wrenching at her heart like an iron hook. "No," she snarled, and was gone in an instant in a puff of black smoke. Ellen watched on, her soft face expressionless.

Darcie reappeared moments later besides Naomi, who was given no time to ask what the hell was going on before Darcie pressed her against the locker, shielding her with her body as the awful smashing of bricks shattering assaulted their ears. Many students turned to look as a rampaging Rhydon tore through the wall, tiny red eyes rolling madly as it threw itself at the wall.

The dark girl's body shuddered with impact as the snorting grey creature thrust its short horn into her back. This would have proven fatal for any normal human, or at least savagely painful, but Darcy merely pulled back her lips to let out a small snarl of pain, squaring her shoulders against the impact. To see that her beloved was out of harm's way was enough to deaden the pain.

"Darcie… what the fuck?" Naomi seemed a little annoyed after being slammed into the locker. Especially since all the students who had seen the event had formed a tight circle around them, far enough away from the Rhyhorn's stomping back legs. More teens, enticed by the large gathering of their peers, came to stand watch.

A small, wiry figure pushed his way through the crowd. He wore a scowl, orange brows narrowed over his intensely bright blue eyes. With a loud sigh, he heaved the Rhydon into his arms, hoisted it above his head, and threw it over the fence where it landed with a thud.

There was a dead silence as everyone gawked at the boy, some with their mouths hanging open.

He glowered back, hunching his shoulders. "What are you looking at?"

---

_Rockwell High, Lorto._

"Please, take a seat."

The middle age woman flashed him a forced smile that seemed more of a grimace and planted herself in the office chair opposite Mr. Cunningham. He was buffed by a faint whisp of perfume. This woman had style, at least.

"So, I hear you have a complaint?" The principal chuckled to himself. "I wonder what this could be about?"

The reptilian smile soon changed into the purse-lipped look of an irritated woman. Placing her handbag on the floor, the woman folded her manicured hands. Her eyebrows became twisted with concern as she begun.

"Mr. Cunningham…"

"Please, call me Joe."

The woman twisted uncomfortably in her seat, the skin on her face twisting. "Joe." She replied sourly, as if it disgusted her to call a man she didn't know on such informal terms. "I have come to complain about a certain…"

"…Student in my school." finished Cunningham, unable stop a smirk brushing his features. "The one with Chromeon genes?"

The woman's facial muscles slacked, a haze of surprise crossing her watery blue eyes. Cunningham's smirk widened at the woman's ignorance. "How did you know?"

"Ms. Stepney, I have had seven other women –and men- come into complain about just the same thing. Anyway, please continue." Cunningham folded his hands on his desk, fingering his wedding ring.

Sarah Stepney sighed loudly and brushed her finger against her eyebrow before continuing. "My daughter Isabelle is in the girl's class. I don't feel safe with that thing near my daughter."

Cunningham's shoulders dropped, and he fixed his gaze on Sarah as intensely as he could. "I think that it's disgusting that you call her a thing. She has a name, you know."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. "I'm not here to argue about the thing's rights. I'm asking to remove her from the school."

"Ms. Stepney, do you not think that Farren has a right to learn? She is still primarily human, gets good grades and has a stable group of friends. I really don't understand what all the fuss is."

Sarah gasped and flung her hands to her sides. "She made blades come out of her body in the middle of class, and severed the veins of the girl sitting next to her! How is that not a problem?"

"The girl that was injured in the incident was Farren's close friend Cam Mawson. Farren did not intentionally hurt her; she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Some students actually claim that Cam had her hand on Farren's for support."

Sarah snorted. "Support? What the hell for?"

"All I can say is that Farren got angry at her teacher just as any teenager would. Extending her blades was a response similar to human's hair standing up when they feel threatened."

A silence descended over the room while Sarah chewed her nail. Outside, the voices of students echoed; it was lunchtime.

"But what about surgically removing the blades? Won't that work?"

"The blades are like fingernails. They grow back. I'm sorry, we've thought of everything. Nothing changes, and when Farren is discharged from the mental ward, she comes back Rockwell."

Sarah said nothing. She just quietly left the room and shut the door with a gentle click.

Cunningham exhaled hard through his mouth, and looked down at the list of names of parents who had booked in to see him."

"Three down, eighteen to go."

---

_Psychneur Mental Institution, Lorto._

Farren sat with her arms curled around her. She made no attempt to withdraw her blades; as a part of her they couldn't cut her unless she willed it to be so. Besides, after seventeen years of mostly keeping the blades concealed, it felt good to stretch the muscles used to push them out.

A sharp rap on the door made Farren's head snap up. She watched it with curious grey eyes as a lock clinked in the key, sensitve ears twitching. The metal door swung open with a creak. The muscles around her blades tightened when she saw a tall grey-haired man standing in the doorway.

"Whoa, Farren." He raised his hands towards her, a look of fear in his eyes. "Please put those away."

"Sorry," croaked Farren, and the blades disappeared back into her body. "I needed to stretch them."

"It's ok," said the man. "Aren't you uncomfortable there?" He walked over and pulled two chairs out from the desk, sitting on one and offering her another. Meekly, Farren pulled herself into one, scooting away from the man slightly.

"I've come to make you a deal." He began, resting his head on his fist and staring at Farren with narrowed eyes.

Farren's eyes widened. She liked this idea. "What kind of deal?"

The man sighed. "My name is Dr. Marshall. I'm a psychologist. I've been asked to assess you psychologically. If you answer all my questions, no matter how odd they may seem, you can see your friend, Cam."

The girl suddenly sat up straight. Farren was a private creature by nature, she didn't like to share her personal details with others, but longing to see Cam was growing in her like a chasm. "Ok." She finally responded.

Dr. Marshall smiled. "I hoped you'd see it that way." He settled into what seemed a more comfortable position pulled out a notepad and pen. Well, I'll start by asking you about Cam. You seem fond of her."

A smile brushed Farren's pale features. "She's one of my best friends. I'd do anything for her." The girl adopted a more serious look before adding, "I hope I didn't hurt her too badly."

"Well, she's well enough to come see you, so yeah, I'd say she's ok." The doctor, who had begun scribbling away on his pad when Farren started to speak, leant forwards more in his chair. "Tell me more about your relationship with her."

"We met three years ago, in ninth grade. You get girls that, y'know, are nice to me and stuff, but they're not like Cam or any of my other friends." Farren's eyes were earnest with affection.

The doctor's lips edged into a smile. "It's good to hear that. I remember when you and your kind were created there was a huge uproar about how horrible your lives would be."

Farren nodded. She often felt like a cat amoung pigeons around ordinary humans. Sometimes she got strange looks when she forgot to dye her hair to hide the silver roots, but mostly people just left her alone. It wasn't like her differences couldn't be hidden, like, say; Ester the Silicon mutant's claws. "I guess it's worse for some of the others." she mused.

Dr. Marshall smiled, jolting this down. "Do you ever see any of the other mutants, if I can use that word?"

"That word is fine," Said Farren bluntly. "I'm different to anyone else my age, no matter what you wanna call it. As for the other mutants, I guess I see them around."

"Ok," whispered the doctor softly, jolting this down before looking up at her again.

"This may seem like a pretty odd question, but do you ever get angry? And I don't mean frustrated or annoyed, but so angry, you could hurt someone?"

Farren stared at him stoically for a few moments, and then threw back her head in voracious laughter.

"Are you okay there, Farren?" The doctor's voice was concerned when he spoke up. Farren had since descended into a current of mad giggles, her eyes wild.

"Oh, _I'm_ fine," she chuckled, a venomous sting of sarcasm under her mirth. "It just makes me sick that people only give a fuck about you if you're dangerous. If I were any other girl, you wouldn't be asking me this. If I were an ordinary loony, nobody would be like 'Oh, can she hurt my kids?' they would be all like 'Oh, that poor little sprite.' People make me want to vomit. All they care about is themselves."

The doctor's pen was a snake, scribbling over the page wildly. He didn't look up to speak to her again. "And you don't, Farren?"

Farren stared at him intently. "Not anymore. I'm don't really care what happens to me anymore, since nobody else does. I have no rights, so what does it matter? They might as well kill me now so everyone can be happy."

The doctor looked up at her and put his pen down, blue eyes concerned. "Farren, don't be like that. Lots of people care about you, not just those who are worried for their children. I have a daughter your age who asked me to tell me how you were, because she felt sorry for you."

Farren's eyes sparked with an unknown emotion for a moment. "That's kind of her."

"Anyway, could you answer my original question? Or don't you feel comfortable?"

Farren ran a hand through her hair. "Nah, it's cool," she responded. "I don't usually get angry like I did in class at school, but when I do get angry, I go down the back of the yard and chop up firewood. My carers sell it."

Dr. Marshall's smile returned. Farren though that he would be quite handsome if she was thirty years older. "It's good to see you vent your anger. Well, that's all my questions. I'll go get Cam for you."

Farren smiled. "Thankyou."

---

Well, that was the first chapter. I plan to introduce more characters in the next chapter, like the Vaporeon girl. Hope you liked!


	2. This is who I am

Wow, I actually finished another chapter. How good is that? Please review, it helps inspire me. And don't just go "It was gud I lieked it", or "Omg that sukked." Give me a short paragraph, and reasons why you liked/disliked it. And tell me what you'd like to see in the next chapter!

---

"How's your arm?"

Cam instinctively touched the thick bandages on her arm, feeling her arm throb more blindingly now that it had been mentioned. Two days after the chromium knives had severed her flesh, the pain had started. It wasn't the worst thing she had experienced, but still enough to keep her uncomfortable. But she wasn't going to let Farren know that.

"It's not too bad."

Farren's gaze was concerned, as if she didn't believe her. But if there was doubt, she didn't mention it. She changed the subject, a classic Farren thing to do. "Did you hear about what happened in Ecruteak?"

Cam sat down at in the uncomfortable looking grey chair that had been provided and winced. No wonder Farren was sprawled on her bed. "No. What happened?"

"You know there are mutants that live there, right?" Cam nodded. She tried to hide her surprise that Farren had mentioned mutants; usually she didn't like to be reminded of how different she was. It embarrassed her.

Farren rubbed her fingers against her braces. "Some noob lost control of his Rhyhorn. It rampaged and bashed down a fence, and headed straight for this chick. Darcey, who's the Umbreon girl, teleported over and saved her, then the Warreon mutant who goes there too threw it over the fence."

Cam merely raised her eyebrows and stared out the window at a Pidgey who was tapping on the window, green eyes shimming in the hope of food. "That's a nice story."

Farren rolled off her bed, and walked over to the window. With a click she unfastened the latch and pulled the Pidgey into her arms. It cooed softly as she stroked it while gazing at the ceiling; it must have been tame to allow her to hold it like that. Out of the blue, Farren mumbled: "Do you know what my name means, Cam?"

_Why is she acting so odd? She knows she didn't hurt me too much. _"Umm, no."

Farren continued to stroke the Pidgey, but looked Cam dead in the eyes. For once in Cam's life, she felt uncomfortable with the intensity of her friend's slate eyes.

Her gaze wandered to the ceiling again. "It means 'Iron-grey'. Even my name reflects what I am. I think it's time I started to come to terms with what this means. This is who I am." She said firmly.

After Cam had gone home, Farren's words tumbled in her mind like a candy wrapper in the breeze. _This is who I am._

_But what about who I though you were?_

---

The water flowed around her, a single fluid entity. It soothed her itching dry skin; it healed tiny cuts that she'd picked up during the day. It was a tight yet gentle aqueous womb. Here, underneath the surface, she was safe. It was a blanket protecting her from the world. Her deep indigo hair spread around her like a halo.

Then, she let her molecules disperse, and fade to water. She became one with the pool, but still keeping herself grouped together.

This was how she could hide, and this was how she could feel nothing.

---

"What the hell happened?"

Naomi's chartreuse eyes were questioning. The feisty young girl placed her hands firmly on her hips, a golden eyebrow raised.

Darcie gulped, unable to meet her eyes for once. Running a hand through her long, dark hair, she blinked and looked through the window. She didn't want to answer. She just wanted to disappear and feint herself home. She could, if she wanted to. But the part of her that loved Naomi more than she loved her own life made her stay.

"I-er, saved you."

Naomi's other eyebrow joined the first high on her forehead. "Well, I know that. But how…and why?"

Darcie sighed, and rubbed her back where the horn had lodged itself under her rib. It didn't hurt, but there was an odd tingling sensation where Ellen had healed it. The psychic youth now stood outside the classroom with her arms folded, watching the pair with deep blue eyes. Darcie avoided her gaze, and stumbled over Naomi's question. _Should I tell her, or not? _The Umbreon girl feared her reaction; what if she didn't want to know her after this? The very thought of this made Darcey shudder unhappily.

But then, a little voice in the back of her head piped up. _Naomi will appreciate you telling the truth. Besides, you're a crap liar. _Darcey blinked happily at the thought she could be so wise, but then she caught Ellen's grin out the corner of her eye. "Tell her," she mouthed.

Darcie nodded. She couldn't hold this back from the one she loved any longer.

"I'm the Umbreon mutant," she blurted out. "I feinted over there to save you."

Namoi's gaze widened slightly. For a moment she was silent, and the only noise in the room was Darcie's blood pounding in her ears.

"What the hell? How come nobody knew about your mutant-ness?" She squinted and peered at Darcie's eyes. "Aren't you supposed to have red eyes? They look brown to me."

Darcie gave a strained grin and brought her hand. Wincing slightly, she pinched the film of plastic out of her eye, and blinked rapidly to clear away the itchiness. After she repeated the same with her other eye, she met Naomi's horrified green gaze. Her heart gave an unpleasant lurch upon seeing her reaction.

"I-uh, er, gotta go," said Naomi, slowly backing away with her hands raised. "Please, just don't hurt me."

A pulse of horror ran through Darcie's body like an electric current. _This wasn't supposed to happen! _"NO! Wait, please!"

But Naomi was sprinting down the hall, her blonde hair trailing her like the tail of a comet. Ellen took a step back to let her fly past, watching her with a stoic expression.

Darcie slumped to the floor, her knees giving out. Images of Naomi raced through her head: a rare smile, a laugh, the passionate look she got in her eyes when she was talking about something she felt strongly about. Darcie emitted a low whine as her heart was torn in two by a throbbing pain.

A hand on her shoulder was soothing. "Darcie, I'm sorry. You tried your best, and it's her fault that she can't see past it. Let's go home."

Darcie gave a tormented sigh and got to her feet. Looking at Ellen mournfully in the eyes with her blazing crimson orb, she wrapped her arms around the girl and held her tight.

In a puff of black smoke, both sisters were gone.

---

The mess and tangle of limbs and stench infuriated Jesse. The reek of sweat always stung his sensitve nose, and it didn't' help that his head was level with most of the other boys' armpits. He bit back a snarl as he fought his way through the crowd.

A particularly small boy, smaller than Jesse even, cemented himself to the spot and peered at Jesse through round, brown eyes. The curiosity towards the Warreon boy had heightened since the incident a few weeks ago when he had thrown that pathetic beast over the fence. Jesse wondered what the big deal was; the thing wasn't even that heavy. He had to keep reminding himself that these were weak, pathetic humans who couldn't do anything for themselves.

The boy, still staring at Jesse, continued to walk straight towards him even though it was quite apparent that other boy wanted to go this way. Jesse was not to be shaken; however, he continued to walk in a straight line and snarled "Out of m' way." when the boy came near.

The smaller teen jumped out of the way, banging himself against the lockers. Jesse had to restrain a small sadistic smile as the other boy winced in pain.

The walk to his classes was often like this. He accepted it because he knew that this was part of being a mutant, but it didn't mean he enjoyed it.

Jesse hated a lot of things, just like any human, but other people topped his list. Looking around the corridor, he could see a multitude of crap going on. He saw the upturned lip of a taller boy bulling a smaller one. He saw the dilated pupils of two girls excitingly bitching about another, and, the most sickeningly, he saw a couple with their arms wrapped firmly around each other, staring into one another's eyes with pure trust. He couldn't understand how, after all the betrayal and cruelty they could see around them, they could trust another. It was just foolish.

Hunching his shoulder and pulling his hoodie firmly over his head, he pushed though the crowd.

When a pair of shadows fell over him, he though it was more curious starers. Opening his mouth to protest, he was shocked to see the Stevenson twins standing before him.

Out of all the people at his school, Jesse detested Ellen and Darcie the least. They at least weren't pathetic and weak and could look after themselves. The ghost of a smile dusted his face as he saw the tall, lean figure of Ellen contrast with her shorter, stockier sister. Despite this difference, it was easy to see the similarities between the girls in their facial structure. Both had dark hair; Ellen's died dark brown to cover up her naturally lavender hair, and Darcie's naturally jet black hair tipped with gold, not blonde.

"Can I help you?" He said as politely has he could manage. While he didn't mind these girls, he needed to get to class before the peak hour in the halls really begun. Already the crowds were growing.

Ellen, the most outgoing of the pair, began to speak in her silky tone. "Me and Darcey just wanted to thank you about the other day," When Jesse raised an eyebrow, Darcey continued. "Y'know, with the Rhyhorn and stuff. You saved us a bit of work." The dark girl chewed her bottom lip, as if something else came to mind when she though about it.

"S'alright," Jesse mumbled, scuffing his feet. He was most uncomfortable with praise; it didn't happen often. "I gotta go. Bye."

"Seeya," said Ellen, and both twins watched him go.

Jesse felt in slightly better of a mood as he finished the trip to class. It was nice to know that some people weren't complete idiots.

---

Dr. Marshall grinned widely as he held up his notepad for Sergeant Mathers to see.

The Sergeant wasn't as enthusiastic as the psychiatrist. His bushy grey moustache twitched in annoyance, and his big meaty hands gripped the edge of his desk firmly. He had been assured that Alex Marshall was a brilliant doctor and would get to the bottom of the spiny girl.

The doctor, upon seeing the Sergeant's irate expression, lost his smile. "Is there a problem, sir?"

A deep, throaty chuckle emitted from the police officer. "Problem? Of course there's a fucking problem. Excuse my French, doctor, but this is bullshit."

Dr. Marshall glimpsed at the notepad. "I think it's quite a good drawing," he remarked softly. "One of my best ever."

The cop's face began to change colour to a deep violet, making him resemble a beetroot slightly. "That doesn't make a difference! There's a severe problem with the medical system in this country if you hire a shrink to suss out a potentially dangerous citizen and he spends the entire time drawing a _duck_."

"Ok, well if offends you so much, I'll put it away." The doctor tucked the notepad into his breast pocket. "But the reality is, there is absolutely nothing wrong with Farren. She's a normal teen. Just suffering from a bit of depression, that's all."

The cop lent in, lanky limbs askew over the table. "Depression is a serious problem, doc. She might lose the plot and attack some innocent kid."

A certain quote of Farren's echoed through the doctor's mind. _"If I were an ordinary loony, nobody would be like 'Oh, can she hurt my kids?' they would be all like 'Oh, that poor little sprite." _

"Yes, sir, it is a problem. But I know something that might help."

The Sergeant's expression did not change. "I'm all ears," he growled.

"I have reason to believe that Farren would be better off in touch with her own kind. If she met with the other mutants, it would establish a feeling of belonging and curb her isolation a bit."

Sergeant Mathers grinned. "Well, I'm glad to see you're not a crackpot. That's a great idea! I'll call up the other carers. Thankyou doctor, you are dismissed.

Dr. Marshall gave a little bow before exiting the room, unable to wipe the smug grin from his face. 

---

Oh lawd, males and adults are so hard to write. I hope Jesse doesn't sound too girlish. Thanks for reading.


	3. Propositions

Well, it was a long time in the making, but here's the next chapter. A review would be truly dandy.

---

Jesse booted an empty can of coke across the bitumen road, its rolling clunk the only sound besides a few birds and the distant whirr of a lawnmower. Involuntarily, his lips arched into a smile. He liked walking home; the streets of Ecruteak were deserted this time of day. No noisy students, no screaming children, just peace. The dual towers of the town were outlined against the sky, their oriental frames like dark cut-outs against the brilliant blue sky.

Jesse liked visiting the towers, provided he went when it wasn't full of excited tourists. Many people found the eerie quiet in the place spooky or even haunted, but Jesse liked it. It gave him time to think.

He kicked the can a couple more times, before picturing a teacher who had given him particular grief's face on it and sending it flying. He watched it for a moment, until it turned into a speck against the sky. He continued down the street, hands in his pockets and his head hunched, making him appear smaller than he already was.

The sound of a motor touched his sensitive ears; they involuntarily twitched as he swung around to see a curious looking green van coming down the road behind him. Jesse snarled in irritation that he had to walk on the footpath for a moment, but obliged.

He had neared the end of the road when he heard the door open and shut. His ear twitched, but he ignored it for now.

"Hey, kid."

The voice was hard and gravelly, not at all pleasant. It made the adrenalin that coursed through Jesse's body bolt through him at a faster rate, and he felt irritation boil up. He just wanted to walk home, not be chased by some paedophile.

The man approaching from behind was not much taller than he was, but his bare arms showed a wiry strength that impressed him. He wore dark green clothing with golden edging, and a dark green cap pulled so low over his head that Jesse couldn't see his face, only the dark stubble on his chin and the smirk on his face. Grey tufts of hair that might have been ginger a while ago stuck from the corners of his cap. When he neared the Warreon mutant, Jesse smelt the sharp tang of tobacco and was reminded of his home ec teacher.

"How ya' going?" The man grinned, showing broken and yellowed teeth. A silver badge of the letter "C" glinted dully on the man's chest.

Jesse was not impressed. He had to get off the road, and then he had to talk. Ugh, this wasn't a good day. "I'm fine, I guess." He answered in a clipped and cold tone, running a hand through his short orange hair.

The next question was more direct. "You're the Warreon mutant, aren't you buddy?"

Jesse tasted the pang of bile in his mouth at this question. "Yes."

The man grinned even wider, raising his head up so that Jesse could see his murky green eyes the colour of phlegm. "I've heard you're pretty strong?"

Jesse's expression did not change. If this guy though that flattery would get him what he wanted, he was wrong. "I don't know. I guess so, compared to most humans."

The man spat a clump of something on the road, before continuing to grin at the Warreon mutant. "Just as I thought. Look kid, I have a proposition for you."

Jesse sighed. "I'm not doing adverts on T.V. for your fucking cereal, if that's what you want."

The man stared at him for a second, and burst into a bout of chuckles. "Oh god kid, that's the funniest thing I've heard all day. Good one!" He stopped laughing, and took his hat off to reveal a sunken face and tufty grey hair. "I have a much better proposition than that. Heard of Team Chronos?"

Jesse snorted in response. "Oh yeah, the criminal organization that uses Pokémon as tools and tortures them? I know all about _them_." Jesse spat the last word. He hated people, but he loved Pokémon. They were so simple and blatant.

The man's smiled dropped. "Well, uhhh yes, but I was specifically sent to ask you if you'd like to join. We could use you." The man played with the edge of his hat nervously, eyeing the ground.

Jesse stared hard at him. He didn't have to even think.

"Fuck off."

The Warreon boy left the Chronos Grunt staring after him with a bewildered gaze.

---

Farren lay on her bed, using a knuckle blade to scrape her twelfth day in the mental hospital on the headboard. Two more days, and she was a free girl. No more sloppy meals, no more room dingy room, no more screams through the day and night from the patients down the corridor. It would feel good to be outdoors, to feel her blades on something other than the headboards. She planned to go home and chop up a nice bunch of firewood for her carers.

One thing confused her though. Why hadn't Cam been to see her?

It was over a week since her friend had last visited her. To a pair of teenage girls who had been friends since they were fourteen, this was an eternity.

Farren wondered if it had been what she said about accepting herself as a mutant. After all, Cam did leave with a rather shaken look on her face. But she had known about Farren's, well, differences, since she had known her. Would being more open about who she really was make Cam avoid her after all of this?

The Chromeon girl sighed. It was insignificant; she would be home soon, and could visit Cam and their other friends as much as she wanted. But she wouldn't lie, she was a mutant now, and she was going to start accepting it.

A sharp rap on the door snapped her out of her thoughts. Not bothering to sit up from her lying position, she watched as the door swung open to reveal a grinning Dr. Marshall.

Farren couldn't help but grin back; she liked this man. He was kind, friendly, and accepted her. He dared to talk about the things nobody else dared to.

"How are we today, young Farren?" The doctor asked, taking a seat on that infamous grey chair that seemed to make everyone's back ache. Farren and her other friends had joked about it in the days before.

Farren knew to be honest with this man. He had the emotional intelligence of a Lucario. "I'm just a little confused as to why Cam hasn't been visiting me. I thought maybe the whole 'Farren's part vicious beast' thing had caught up with her."

Dr. Marshall's eyes were concerned. "Cam does seem like a true friend to me, and I'm sure she has a good reason. It doesn't seem to bother any of your other friends, does it?

The last few visits from friends passed through Farren's mind, a blur of different smells, gossip and giggles. "No." she admitted.

"Well there you go," Dr. Marshall said, his famous grin returning. "Now, I actually have something to ask you."

"And that is?"

He pulled a folded up piece of paper from his pocket, and leaned over to hand it to Farren. "This is something I've organized because I think it might help you."

Farren looked up at him with a frown, but unfolded the paper curiously. After she had seen what was written, her frown deepened.

Are you one of the…

EV-MEN?

For all the mutants out there, this is an opportunity to meet up with each other. You've all spent far too long separated and lonely, it's time to come together!

When: 3rd October, 11 am -9 pm

Where: Rockwell Community Hall, Lorto

How: Via boat and bus

This is a free event payed for by the Lorto Government. All transport and accommodation will be provided with no charge.

Farren stopped frowning. "EV-Men? Did you think of that?" Dr. Marshall nodded. Farren laughed.

"So, do you think it's a good idea?"

Farren's face became more serious. "I'm not really sure."

"Why not?"

Farren liked her carers, Bob and Jill. She also liked her adopted sister, Steph. But she did not enjoy being at home because of her neighbours. They were psychos, the family always said that, but it affected Farren more than any of them. Chris and Mary St. Clare and their dreaded offspring Lizzy and Issak were terrors of the worst kind. They practiced a strict form of religion that disallowed anything fun or natural. Most of all, they despised Farren and made her life miserable. If she was out the front, they would yell abuse at her. If she was out the back, as she often was since being indoors was against her wild nature, the kids would yell stuff at her and often throw rocks at her. They were – for lack of a better term – the neighbours from hell.

"I told you about the St. Clare family, right?"

"Farren, this is a private event. No members of the public are going to find out."

Farren raised her eyebrows and uttered a short bark of a laugh. "Oh, for sure. So when a girl with huge claws sticking out the ends of her fingers walks into a building with similar creatures with many other strange attributes, nobody is going to think anything is suss?"

"You mean Ester, right?"

"Yep."

"Nobody will see. They'll drop her off out the front in a government car. Farren, I know you're worried, but you shouldn't be. You have the right to exist. It wasn't your – or any of the other mutant's- fault that you are the way you are. Be a Shelgon, and let their insults bounce off your shell."

Farren chuckled, pushing a black strand of hair out of her eyes. "I'm actually a Chromeon. We generally slice up anyone who insults us."

Dr. Marshall laughed. "I don't think that's such a good idea. But are you in?"

Farren nodded, watching as she pushed her knuckle blade through her skin. Using it to chip some leftover polish off her fingernail, she added: "But let's say, something gets slipped, and the media leaks out the info to the world. All these crazy protesters show up, and then what?"

Dr. Marshall met Farren's questioning slate eyes. "Then the police deal with it. Or we arrange another venue."

Farren nodded, her mind finally made up. "Ok. I'll do it. But one more thing."

The doctor strained to keep in his joy. "Yes? What is it?"

Farren smirked, something she had not done in a long time. "The name – EV-Men. It's catchy and I get it, it's like that movie X-Men. But I'm a woman. And so are half the other mutants."

Dr. Marshall laughed, pale eyes twinkling. "We have a young feminist on our hands."

---

The zombie in Ellen's kitchen shuffled over to the toaster, her eyes dull as she pressed the button down again.

Why she even bothered was a mystery to Ellen; she wasn't going to eat the toast anyway. She would just plonk it down on the table and stare at for twenty minutes, before throwing it to the birds. Then she would walk into the kitchen; stare at the phone for a few moments, before muttering something about homework and returning to her bedroom. Not to sleep, either, because the light was on every time Ellen went to check.

Ellen didn't know this only because she could see the future, but because this was what had marked her sister's behaviour for the last week or so.

The dark haired girl had not bothered to put in her contacts, which was normal when they were at home, but it showed the pure agony in her dark crimson eyes. Ellen found it hard to watch as her sister stared at the toast as if she could see right through it, through the ground and the layers of rock below, right to the core of the earth. Ellen considered placing a hand over Darcie's in comfort for a moment, but the future showed that her usually warm hands were freezing, something that disturbed Ellen.

The scenario that the future had told Ellen played out before her, and her sister shuffled out of the room, her ebony hair ruffled and her lighter tips bright with pain. The psychic sister remained in her chair, indigo eyes fixed on the table, her hands in her dark chestnut hair. She wished there was something –_ anything_ - she could do for her sister, but her powers only worked on the physical body. It couldn't mend a broken heart.

A slight twang of interest in the future piqued Ellen's interest. She saw herself at the computer, reading an email that made her excited. Curious over what could pull her out of such a depressed and sympathetic state, she padded over to the computer and logged on.

She found a few emails in her inbox; most were spam asking if she'd like to increase the size of her penis. She deleted them with a slight brow twitch of annoyance, before her eyes widened at something she would never had expected to see.

_**Sender: Jesse Turner **_

_**Time: 3:25 PM **_

_**Subject: Mutant meetings**_

_Hello, Ellen._

_A man who calls himself Dr. Alex Marshall sent me the following email, and asked me to forward it to all the other mutants I could. I've cut out some of the bits that don't matter. I don't have Darcie's email, so could you please show it to her?_

_Dear friend,_

_My name is Dr. Alex Marshall and I am the psychologist of Farren Moore, whom you should all know is the Chromeon mutant. I have evaluated her after an incident at her school and believe that it would be beneficial to her if I organised a meeting between all the mutants. I can send the full information flyer if you are interested._

---

Ellen's sapphire eyes, which were usually quite squinty, widened suddenly. A meeting between the mutants? Now this was interesting. She knew for a fact that when they were created and the expected uproar occurred, the government had agreed to mostly keep them apart.

Ellen and Darcie were the only biological twins of the Mutants. Ever since they had been artificially born, they had been inseparable, despite their obvious physical differences. Nobody in their right mind would have separated them, so only they were allowed to live together. Jesse was a year older than them at sixteen, and he had lived in Ecruteak before they moved from Cherrywood as ten-year olds. They were the only three mutants who shared a town.

They occasionally heard about other mutants through the news, especially when one did something wrong. Ellen had heard about the Chromeon mutant, Farren, accidentally slicing her friend's arm up. Aside from Jesse and her sister, this girl was the only one she had actually seen. They'd showed a picture of her on the news, a lanky, pale thing with piercing eyes and sunken, sickly face. She did not look well.

"Darcie?"

The door of Darcie's bedroom opened, and her head popped around the door. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she was wiping her nose. She said nothing, just looked.

"Come here."

Ellen watched her sister crumble into a thousand black shiny shards before reappearing with a crackle next to her. Ellen tapped the screen with a long finger, and Darcie leant in to read it.

After her eyes had scanned the screen, Darcie pulled a chair over to sit next to her sister. "I don't think it's a good idea." She finally responded.

"Why?"

Darcie sighed, and run a hand through her hair. She clearly didn't want to talk about this. But she knew how persistent Ellen could be, so she answered.

"How do you think the public are going to react to that? They hate the fact that we're alive bad enough. Can you imagine how disgusted they'd be if we all met up?"

It was Ellen's turn to sigh. Her sister was so self conscious and so afraid of humans. The Espeon girl swivelled around to face her. "Who cares what the humans think? And why are you so afraid of them? They're just like us, except weaker. If anything, they should be afraid of us."

Darcie nodded. "That's my point. They'll be huge protests to keep us for meeting up and plotting to destroy them…"

Ellen saw that she could not get around Darcie's way of thinking. So, she changed the topic. "I think it would be good to go regardless. I'd like to meet some others like us, and I think it'll help you get over Naomi."

That was the buzz word. Darcie's highlights turned iridescent gold, and her crimson eyes widened. "I…urhh… do whatever. Doesn't… bother me. Ummm… got to go." And the girl detached her molecules with a crackle.

Ellen felt another pang of sympathy, which was fast beginning to be her most prevalent emotion. She stretched her back muscles before returning to type at the keyboard.

_Jesse,_

_Tell him yes. We'll both go._

_And it's nice to hear from you ___

---

Awww, Jesse's getting a bit of luff.

But it seems all the mutants are worried about the public's reaction. Typical self-conscious teenagers, I say.

Anyways, as mentioned before, comments and crit are much appreciated!


	4. Demons

Wow, I whipped up this one quick!

Although I do appreciate the comments and suggestions, I would actually like my fic to be critiqued by someone.

---

Farren drove.

The road was a dry, barren grey snake stretching into the distance before her. The warmth of the sun filtered through the window and onto her pale skin. She stretched her back, remarking with a smile how good it felt to be outside again. Especially behind the wheel of her beloved car.

Farren loved driving. She had got her licence only a few months ago, having spent months painstakingly perfecting parallel parking and the like. But it payed off; when Farren got in a car, she felt as if the world was at her feet, and that she could go wherever she wanted. Nobody could get her, or treat her badly because of what she was.

As this particular thought passed through her head, the young girl gritted her teeth as she fought to keep her blades in their fleshy sheaths. What had transpired when she had arrived home flashed through her brain like one of her very own chromium spikes.

_She swung her legs out of the car, taking a deep breath of fresh air. The air in the mental institution had been sickly and always had the slight aroma of mashed pumpkin and vomit to it. Here, in the leafy borders of Rockwell, there was a fresh scent, like the start of of a new beginning._

_A small figure appeared in the doorway as she arrived. The young girl smiled at her adopted sister, brown eyes shining._

"_You're back!"_

_The older, taller girl smiled at the fourteen year old she considered family. "D'ya miss me?"_

_Before Steph could reply, a loud bang rattled the fence that separated their property from the neighbour's. Both girls turned a wary eye to where a curly haired, bespectacled woman was watching them with a scowl._

"_The demon's back! I would have thought they would have done the right thing and killed you by now, after all that! How many people do you have to kill before God's will is done?"_

_Farren sighed, and Steph drew her into the house by her sleeve. That was the only way to deal with their neighbours: walk away._

_After a brief discussion with her sister and carers, Farren retreated outside. The backyard was her haven: a rippling green wonderland of trees and wilderness. She could spend hours getting lost in the overgrown lawns, climbing the huge trees, or chopping up wood with her blades. It was one of the main advantages of living near wilderness._

_But there was one problem._

_She sat with her back towards the neighbour's house, which had seemed like a good idea to her but proved to be a bad one when a rock bounced off her back, startling her. Her blades flashed out in surprised and she had to imbed her wrist blades into the tree branch to avoid falling off._

"_Hey! Over here, Devil spawn!"_

_With agility abnormal for any ordinary human, she leapt up, spinning around in the air and landing on the branch, squatting, and now facing her attackers. They were two young children, a boy and a girl, and they were both holding rocks, ready to throw again. _

"_Go ahead," she muttered loud enough for them to hear. "Try me!"_

_The young girl raised her arm to aim. "This rock is like God's Punishment!" She hurled it at the teen in the tree. _

_With lightning reflexes, the teen brought up her arm and swiped the rock with her wrist blade. It split in half, and fell to the ground with a soft rustle._

_The children stared in shock for a moment, but then a steely resolve returned to the boy's face. Thrusting a finger at her, he cried: "Your witchcraft doesn't scare us, demon! God will strike you down to Hell were you can writhe with maggots for all eternity!"_

_The teen girl's face dropped for a moment, surprised that a boy of around nine could know such language. In a heartbeat, she had descended down the tree and retreated into her house._

"_Coward," sneered the boy, and the girl shook her head in disgust._

_Bob's chocolate coloured eyes had filled with concern which soon turned to anger, an unusual emotion for the usually gentle man._

"_Oh, those rodents. Our girl gets back from a rough time at a mental institution, and they're badgering her already?"_

_Farren shrugged. "They're freaks."_

_Bob laughed, his brown skin crinkling up around the nose. "And they say you're a freak. Listen, Far, why don't you go down to Gumview for a bit? Get some fresh air, be a nobody for a while." _

_Farren's usually dull eyes brightened. "Thanks, Bob," She said brightly, as her tossed her a set of keys. "I won't even have to unpack, so I'll just say goodbye to Steph and Jill and I'll be on my way."_

_Bob beamed, happy that his adopted daughter was able to escape._

The tension in Farren's body eased up. She smiled as her car passed the faded _Welcome to Gumview Town _sign. She would leave her stuff in the small house her carers owned, and retreat into the wilderness that surrounded the town.

She would learn to become a Chromeon.

---

Darcie's eyes were fixed on Naomi.

She sat with her group of friends, the group which had been Darcie's before she had become too shy to join them. Her hair was tied up, giving her a different look then she usually had, but not removing the striking beauty from her delicate features. Naomi was a small girl, but there seemed to be an elegant grace about her limbs. Her short sleeved top seemed to accentuate this, seeming an almost cruel tease to Darcie.

Worst of all, Darcie's nose was sensitive enough to pick up the girl's intoxicating scent from amongst the variety of other aromas in the cafeteria. It was like a drug to her; she took breaths as deep as her lungs would allow.

Darcie lived for these moments. Even though she couldn't get near to her any more, these moments in the same room as Naomi made her as close to happy as she could get. Even though her heart yearned to be her friend and talk to her again, the best she could come to was to sit a table away from her with Ellen.

Sickening as it sounded, Darcie felt grateful that Ellen sat alone. It meant she didn't have to make new friends, which was a tedious and often painful experience in her eyes, and something her psychic sister had never bothered with. Rather, Ellen liked to sit quietly and watch people, a behaviour that creeped out the average teenager almost as much as her luminous sapphire eyes did.

Darcie was grateful to her sister. Without her, she would be eating lunch in the toilet, away from Naomi.

_!!! _

A wordless expression of surprise echoed in Darcie's mind, snapping her out of her Naomi-induced stupor. The Umbreon girl turned to her light counterpart of a sister, who was gazing with surprise at a small hooded figure that was approaching. Naomi out of her mind for a moment, she watched as the figure approached and placed his lunchtray on the table.

A pair of shockingly blue eyes twitched from one startled gaze to another. "I hope you don't mind."

Ellen shook her head enthusiastically with a uncharacteristically huge grin on her face, while Darcie rolled her eyes at her sister and patted the seat next to her.

"Sure, it's cool."

Darcie swore she saw the ghost of a smile grace Jesse's features.

---

Beth did like the bus. It was exciting to travel a route that had been set out, one that a person might not have taken while driving. It was interesting to see the kind of people that got on the bus; they were all from different walks of life.

But she didn't appreciate the stares that came with every bus trip.

Because, while the majority of people had brown, blonde, red or black hair, Beth's was a bright shade of turquoise blue.

A pair of small round eyes stared at her from behind a bench, not looking away even when the teen fixed her deep navy gaze on them. Beth liked most things, but children weren't one of them. She knew that her strange hair colour wasn't the main reason the child was staring; children were just rude like that.

She considered dousing him with water, but she thought his mother might have had a thing or two to say about that. The pair got off the bus at the next stop anyway, the child still staring.

Beth tucked a strand of turquoise hair behind her ear. She knew that keeping her hair its natural colour was sure to attract attention, but she made that choice for the simple reason that she wasn't going to let others define who she was. She shouldn't have to hide her differences and change who she was to fit in with everybody else. Besides, she was kind of proud of her mutant heritage, and why should she hide what she was proud of?

The bus stopped in front of a large, striking building. It seemed almost clownish in comparison to the dull brown apartment buildings with its white marble façade and stained glass windows. The large, medieval style doors were wide open, as if inviting one in. Beth took a few tentative steps off the bus and towards the building.

For the last few weeks, Beth had wondered about her own faith. Her carers had never mentioned anything about religion, she assumed they were Arceusists. But she herself was an agnostic; she wasn't sure if there was a god or not, and had decided to visit this church's priest for clarification.

She took a deep breath, and walked inside.

The church was similar on the inside as its exterior: white marble, stained glass windows. The large room had a soft, peaceful feel to it, and the smell of incense wafted about. A couple of elderly figures dotted the benches, too deep in prayer to notice her arrival.

The priest noticed her, however. He was garbed in a long purple tunic, and a strange headdress topped his grey head. Beth saw shock pass over his face at the shade of her hair, but still he smiled warmly. "Hello! Welcome to the Hearthrome Church of Beryonery. I haven't seen you before."

Beth returned the man's smile. "No, I'm not from around here. I'm Beth."

The priest nodded in acknowledgement. "I'm Father Peters. Can I help you with something? Or are you just here to pray?"

Beth decided that she liked him. He wasn't forcing anything on her… yet. He hadn't commented on her hair… yet. "Actually, I have a few questions. I was raised by non-religious parents, and I'm curious to see what this religion says about me."

Peters gave her an odd look for a moment, before indicating that she should sit beside him on the pew. Beth swore she could smell cigarette smoke on him as did so.

"Well, what do you want to know?"

Beth put a hand to her hair. "Well, I'm the Vaporeon mutant. I've lived a good life and treated people nicely. If I died right now, would I go to heaven?"

From the minute she had uttered the word "mutant", the priest's wizened face had become a mask of shock and disgust. "Kill yourself," he muttered.

"I'm sorry?"

The priest edged away from her slightly. "You must kill yourself. Your existence is against God's will. Only He should have the power to create life. You have no soul, demon. Heed my advice and slit your throat. Only then will the demon inside of you leave this earth."

Beth frowned, and shrugged her shoulders uncomfortably. "This is all a little weird. Could you please excuse me?"

She got to her feet and began to walk down the central isle, tears blurring her eyes. The Vaporeon girl almost didn't hear the priest call out after her "Remember what I said!" as she sprinted out of the church.

She ran for a long time. Buildings and perplexed faces flew by. Her Vaporeon DNA made her have more stamina than the average human, and she soon found herself out of Hearthrome completely. The land had turned from a bustling city to gentle grassland, with pools edging the path. Beth smiled, knowing what she would do.

She leapt above one of the ponds, and dispersed her molecules, becoming water. She hit the surface with a splash, becoming one with the pond.

This pond didn't sting like her pool at home; it was natural, not saltwater. It was more exciting as well; Magikarp swam around her, and Octillery crawled about at the muddy bottom.

Beth loved her ability to become one with water. She could be left alone to think this way. Nobody could bother her, ask anything of her, or tell her she shouldn't exist. It was just her, the pond, and the pokémon.

The pokémon could sense that this section of the water wasn't right, so they left her alone, giving her a brief look before moving on. They, at least, accepted her.

She had learnt something today: that she wasn't a Beryonerist. Her friends had always said that they were crazy, now Beth wished she had of listened to them.

This hadn't discouraged her from finding her religion, although it had been a bit disturbing. She had to believe in something, but it wasn't this.

---

ACKK! Evil priest. Now I know all religious people aren't like that, but this a weird kind of religion unique to the pokémon world. And it isn't a very nice one.

Religious folks, do not despair. One of the EV-Men (or women, rather) is actually religious, I'm not painting you all evil. Read the next chapter for more info.

But meh, I wasn't a fan of the Beth scene. Seemed a little boring.

Anyways, would love to hear your opinion!

~SW


End file.
